


Fake It 'Til You Mate It

by how_about_no



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Scott McCall, Alternate Universe - Canon, Derek is a Good Alpha, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jackson Never Left, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Mates, POV Stiles, Pack Dynamics, Scent Marking, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 15:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3124748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_about_no/pseuds/how_about_no
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Alright, so we hold our heads up high and act like we’re awesome. Is that it?” It sounded too easy even to Stiles, and judging by Derek’s facial expression, he thought so too.</p><p>“Not exactly. This pack finds in unimpressive if the Alpha, or Alphas, don’t have a mate.”</p><p>Or</p><p>The one where Derek loves Stiles and Stiles loves Derek but it takes a visiting pack and a fake relationship to make their relationship real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pack Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end. Derek calls a surprise meeting, and Stiles gets a nice surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this fic has been up for a while, but I've made a lot of edits! If you're back from having read it before, I recommend reading again, just in case. If not, then, well, ENJOY!

Over the last few years, Stiles had been through a lot of shit. That lot of shit having not been his fault, nor really been his problem, but he went through it. He went through it because he was a freaking amazing friend and deserved a hell of a lot more credit than he got. First, his best friend got bitten by a werewolf. A werewolf! So he had that to deal with. Scott, bless him, may be a great Alpha and he really had come a long way, but to start off with he was just a puppy with no idea what to do. And who helped him you ask? Oh, that’s right, Stiles did! So yeah, amazing friend.

Then there was the whole thing with Peter. He was the psychopath who kidnapped Stiles and used him to get to Scott! Yeah, that guy. Great, really. So great. Anyway, so that got dealt with. Then there was Jackson becoming a freaking Kanima, which wasn’t great. Being paralysed was not an experience he’d like to repeat. Even the whole pool scenario, getting up close and personal with Derek, was not an enjoyable experience. He didn’t really get a chance to appreciate their proximity when they were _drowning in 8 feet of water._ So that year wasn’t so great either. Peter coming back from the dead, and Stiles being punched in the face repeatedly by an old man weren’t exactly fun either.

The alpha pack was pretty crappy too. They were all seriously bad ass and Stiles had to appreciate their style, but they killed Erica and Boyd so they got 0 points for it. Stiles felt like a crappy batman right then. Scott’s new alpha-ness was a pretty surprising turn of events. Not that he was complaining, it was great to have a best friend that you could use as a threat. ‘Yeah, that guy right there? Alpha werewolf. So don’t fuck with me.’

As for Derek, well, where does he start with Derek? At first he was a terrifying creeper who slammed Stiles into things, threatened him, and didn’t respect personal space. Then he proved he had good intentions. Totally not a murdering psychopath like his uncle! Turns out the apple does fall far from the tree. Who knew, right? Stiles could appreciate a hot bod when he saw one, and being an out and proud bisexual meant a big gay crisis wasn’t on the table. The big crisis was that he wanted to sleep with the big bad wolf. Who was what, 25? So getting down and dirty with Derek probably wasn’t an option.

However, Stiles refuses to admit to any actual feelings for the guy. He was still kind of a dick. So Stiles purely wanted his dick. Or for him to touch Stiles’ dick. Or for their dicks to touch. Or… Okay, he should probably stop talking about dicks.

He was interrupted from his train of thoughts when Scott’s voice pierced his ears.

“Stiles! Stiles!” He ran up to him like a puppy with a ball. Stiles smirked at the pun, and continued to open his locker. He pulled a book out of it and waited for Scott to start whatever story he was dying to tell.

“So, Isaac and I were watching this movie,” He started, a small smile on his face, “And then-” He stopped with a laugh- “Then he went to reach for the popcorn, flipped it up instead, juggled it for a few seconds, then totally dropped it all over himself.”

“You texted me this.”

“Yeah,” Scott sighed, “But it’s still funny.”

“You also didn’t film it, though, so really you’re an utter failure of a friend and I’m ashamed of you.”

“Even if I had,” Scott raised his voice when Stiles opened his mouth to say something, “I wouldn’t send it to you because it’d end up on twitter.”

“I would not do-” Scott raised his eyebrows- “Okay, you’re right.”

Stiles slammed his locker shut and stared at the front of it, zoning out for a moment. Suddenly he was back in the basement, watching Gerard’s fist come down.

“Stiles?” Scott asked, voice full of concern.

“Hm?” Stiles automatically answered, then shook himself out of the memory, “Oh, sorry. Um, chemistry?” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, and Scott gave him a calculating look before nodding and leading the way.

The whole school day was laborious and pretty fucking boring. In chemistry he just tried to slump as much as possible in his chair to try and stay under Harris’ radar. Of course, it didn’t work, and Harris said, “Mr Stilinski, sit up straight if you don’t want to stay behind after class and clean every board on this corridor.”

Mr Harris was an arse hole.

Stiles couldn’t even remember what the rest of his classes were, so they must have been really freaking boring too. At the end of the day, he came out of the front doors expecting to just be able to walk over to his Jeep with no trouble. But no, the world decided that today was the day to fuck him over just that little bit more. Derek was stood by his Camaro in his signature sunglasses and leather jacket. Stood next to him were Lydia, Jackson, Scott, and Isaac. He stomped over, trying to show as much of his displeasure as possible. Of course, a pack meeting had to be today. Of course!

“Glad you could join us,” Derek snarked when Stiles was a few metres away from them.

“So happy to see you,” Stiles deadpanned back. Derek smirked and opened the car door he was leaning on. Lydia sighed and inspected her nails.

“What about Allison?” She said, feigning nonchalance when the tension in her jaw gave away how she really felt.

“Her dad said she isn’t allowed to come to pack meetings anymore,” Derek replied simply, and without even seeing his eyes Stiles could tell they were trained on Lydia in a challenging stare. She met it steadily, but didn’t show any reaction to the news that Alison wouldn’t be coming.

“That sucks,” Isaac spoke up from beside Scott, where he was playing with the boy in question’s fingers. Scott nodded in agreement.

“She didn’t tell me.” Lydia added suspiciously. Jackson put his arm around her shoulders in an attempt of comfort, Stiles guessed.

“Yeah? Well he didn’t tell _her_. Now get in the damn car.” Derek climbed in the driver’s seat and slammed the door. Stiles looked over at his jeep mournfully. It would probably be fine here for the night.

“Shot gun!” Stiles called and ran around the other side of the car.

“Nobody will fight you for it, Stilinski,” Jackson shouted from where he and Lydia headed off to his Porsche.

Derek gave him a look that Stiles couldn’t read when he climbed in the passenger seat, so he just smiled back, trying to look as innocent as possible.

The drive there was mostly silent, apart from Isaac and Scott whispering to each other in the back. Stiles tapped his hands on his thighs and smacked his lips. He was only really doing it because every time his mouth made the satisfying ‘pop’, Derek’s jaw would clench.

When they pulled up, Derek pulled the keys out of the ignition and slammed out of the car before anyone had a chance to undo their seatbelts.

“He seems happy,” Stiles said to the car as a whole.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happy,” Scott replied from the back. Stiles frowned. He knew Scott was joking, but when he tried to think of the last time he heard Derek laugh, he came up empty.

They all climbed out at a slightly slower pace than Derek set, the show off. Jackson and Lydia pulled up beside the Camaro and got out to meet them at the door.

“What did you guys do to piss Derek off?” Jackson asked, looking at Stiles specifically.

“He’s always pissed off,” Isaac replied, and Stiles shut his mouth because he was about to say the same thing.

“Are we all just going to stand here or are we actually going to go up there to see why we have to have a pack meeting straight after school?”

“Race you to the top!” Stiles shouted, and started running up the stairs two at a time.

“I’m an Alpha, you can’t beat me!” Scott replied, zooming past, and shooting up the remaining steps.

Even though he instigated the race, Stiles still felt the need to complain about his fatigue.

“You need an elevator, Derek, my man. Or maybe one of those old people seats that you can just chill out on while they carry you up. I mean, I don’t know how much more of this abuse I can take.”

Derek shot him an unimpressed look from the kitchen where he was leaning on the counter, waiting for everyone to gather round. Even though he wasn’t the only alpha, he still took on the leadership role of the pathetic excuse for a pack that they had. Scott wasn’t exactly up to scratch.

“I’ll get an elevator the day you wear something other than flannel.”

“Touche.” Stiles replied, making his way over.

“So, what’s all this about?” Lydia tapped her nails against the counter impatiently. She was on edge, Stiles guessed, because she wasn’t in the know. If there was something Lydia was never lacking, it was knowledge. As soon as she had the information and could start thinking of a solution, she’d be in her element. Right now, she was pursing her lips, clearly trying not to shout at Derek to hurry up.

“As a pack, we will have to protect our territory and respect other’s territory.”

“Obviously,” Jackson huffed. Derek stared him down until Jackson lowered his gaze first. Freaking amateur. Stiles could hold Derek’s gaze for days. He looked at the man’s eyes, trying to count the amount of colours in them, and was so distracted he almost missed what Derek said next.

“Because there are other territories, very close to ours, we have to make good impressions to keep them away. Or at least, make them not want to take it.”

“How do we make a good impression?” Isaac asked, standing up straight with his hands in his pockets. Business mode, Stiles thought.

“A pack wants to visit us. That’s how,” Derek looked around to gage everyone’s reactions. Stiles knew that he had a huge smile on his face.

“A visiting pack! That’s amazing!” Derek raised his eyebrows, “I mean, that’s amazing, right? Connections and all that shizzle?”

“Not if we don’t seem like a very impressive pack, I wouldn’t think,” Scott mused from Stiles’ other side. He leaned slightly into Isaac’s side, something he had started doing since they’d been together as a comforting gesture. Stiles felt a pang of jealousy. Why didn’t _he_ have anyone to lean on?

“Exactly. We need to seem impressive. Obviously, we won’t be impressive by then, but we can act like we are,” Derek stood up straight and crossed his arms. He was closing off, and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him.

“Alright, so we hold our heads up high and act like we’re awesome. Is that it?” It sounded too easy even to Stiles, and judging by Derek’s facial expression, he thought so too.

“Not exactly. This pack finds in unimpressive if the Alpha, or Alphas, don’t have a mate.”

“Man, I knew your bad social skills would damn us one day,” Stiles said rubbing a hand over his face.

“Shut up,” Derek didn’t even look in his direction, “So this means that someone is going to have to pretend to be my mate.”

“Derek, are you okay? You look in pain,” What a kind heart Scott had. Stiles was not so kind.

“Isn’t that just his face?” Derek smacked him upside the head.

“Pack politics isn’t funny, Stiles.”

“I know that. So, who is it going to be?” He rubbed the back of his head, and winced. Lydia sighed and placed her hands on the table. Now she was in business mode too. In her element.

“Well, Jackson and I are mates so clearly it can’t be either of us. And don’t bother saying you wouldn’t be with a guy, pretty sure we all know your sexual persuasion,” Stiles did not, thank you!

“I wasn’t going to,” She gave Derek a look and continued.

“As I was saying, neither Scott nor Isaac can because they are also mates. That leaves Allison and-”

“Me! Are you kidding?” Stiles was not ashamed to say he squealed. Derek winced, but he presumed it’s because of how much he would hate to be with Stiles. Stiles wouldn’t hate it, but it would be kind of like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey. Show them what they can’t have. Torture! That is just torture!

“Oh, this is great.” Jackson smirked, looking between Stiles and Derek. Derek’s face was almost carefully blank.

“I’ll call Allison, give me a sec,” Lydia walked away without waiting for a reply.

“You guys can’t be serious. I would be a horrible, horrible fake mate.” Stiles pleaded, looking between every face. Isaac looked like he wanted to laugh, Scott looked halfway between amusement and friend-pity, Jackson looked incredibly smug, Derek looked… Well Derek looked kind of hurt.

“You wouldn’t be,” Derek’s tone was slightly soft, but it lost it when he said “It’ll probably be anyway. She’s more mature than you.”

“Wow, Derek. Way to steal my heart,” Stiles mock held his chest and sniffled.

“It really isn’t that bad. How long are they visiting for?” Isaac asked, looking at Derek.

“A week at most, probably in around a month.”

“In a month?” Lydia shouted from across the room where she was talking to Allison on the phone.

“Yep!” Stiles shouted back. She turned back around and continued talking in a hushed voice.

“I am loving every second of this. I can smell the tension in the room,” Jackson remarked, voice filled with glee.

“It’s probably because Derek wants to murder me,” He didn’t even bother looking at Derek’s reaction.

“Well-” Jackson started, but was interrupted by Lydia coming back, having finished her phone call.

“Allison has family visiting all of next month, I’m afraid. Her dad would never let her pretend to be Derek’s mate anyway. Looks like we’re left with you, Stiles.”

For the first time in his life, Stiles was speechless. Him? He was going to pretend to be Derek’s mate for a week? How could he hide his attraction for so long? He was screwed, and not in the good way.

When he looked in Derek’s direction, he looked like he had some trapped gas, but when he noticed Stiles’ gaze his expression went blank. What was with that?

“You hear that honey-bear? We’re mates!” He swung his arm around Derek’s shoulders and grinned as big as he could. Everyone looked like they were going to burst out laughing, apart from Lydia who looked incredibly unimpressed. If Stiles had to be a mate, he was going to be the best mate in the whole werewolf community.


	2. Day 1- Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The process of becoming a convincing mate is hard and......... annoyingly chiselled.

“Get your feet off my table.” Stiles had been living in the loft for a grand total of 15 minutes before Derek started snapping at him. Apparently, scent was extremely important for werewolves, so if they were going to be believable as _mates,_ the word still felt weird, they would have to smell life each other. And the loft would have to smell like Stiles. So, he had gone home from the pack meeting, explained everything to his dad (it was so much easier with him in the know), got reminded of his dad’s gun and ability to arrest whomever he wished, packed a few things in a backpack, and drove back over to Derek’s for the unforeseeable future.

“Hey, technically this loft is temporarily part mine. Therefore, this table is also part mine, so I will put whatever I wish on it. Which so happens to be my feet.” Stiles settled further into the sofa and gestured to the seat next to him. “Come on, sourwolf, at least lose enough tension in those beautiful broad shoulders to watch a movie with your boo.”

“My boo?” Derek asked, making his way over to the sofa. His mouth twitched like he was about to smile. So close!

“Yes, your boo. For the unforeseeable future, I am your one and only true love, therefore watching movies with me is mandatory.” Derek passed him the remote and Stiles flicked open the movie menu.

“I haven’t seen Captain America 2-”

“Dude, call it the Winter Soldier.”

“Okay, I haven’t seen _the Winter Soldier,_ ” He put dramatic emphasis on the title. Rude. “So how about we watch that.”

“Oh man, I can’t believe you haven’t seen that! It’s truly beautiful. A master piece,” Stiles lamented as he tried to find it on the list, “Chris Evans is a gift to humanity in this film, as is Seb Stan… Actually, pretty much everyone is completely flawless and I want to have sex with them all.”

He finally found it and made a noise of triumph, clicking download. Derek shuffled in place beside him, letting out a sigh of a laugh. Stiles tried not to let his heart swell too much at the sound of it.

“You are such a typical teenager,” He may have sounded done to, but his small smile gave away his true feelings. Stiles wanted to make fun, but figured that if he wanted to see that smile more, best not take the piss out of it.

“I resent that.”

As the movie started, he pulled his feet off the table and curled them underneath him, when Derek looked at him with raised brows he defended, “Hey, I did that because this is more comfortable, not because of your stupid house rules.”

“Whatever you say, Stiles.”

About half way through the movie, right when the Winter Soldier and Steve were fighting it out, Stiles started to nod off. He didn’t have time to think about the potential nightmares, or that he’d be asleep in front of Derek, before he was fast asleep.

He awoke to the credits with his head in Derek’s lap, facing the TV. There were fingers in his hair and Derek’s breathing was even and slow. When Stiles looked up, Derek’s face was relaxed with sleep. It was the first time Stiles had ever seen him so content. He almost wanted to take a picture and keep it to look at when Derek got all growly, just to remind him that that wasn’t all there was to him.

He turned his head back to the TV and grabbed the remote from the table, switching it off and going back to sleep. He dreamed of emerald eyes and warm fingers combing through his hair.

When he woke up for a second time, Derek was gone and there was a blanket over him. Stiles knew he hadn’t gone far because he could hear pans banging in the kitchen, which was probably what woke him up. He wrapped the blanket around himself and hobbled over, plopping down on a chair at the counter. Derek peered over his shoulder and turned back to what he was doing at the stove.

“Good night’s sleep?” He asked, his own voice sounding groggy from just waking up. He was wearing dark blue pyjama pants and a worn T shirt, it was so domestic and adorable it hurt Stiles’ heart.

“It actually was. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while,” The sad part was, he wasn’t even lying, nor exaggerating. Ever since Scott got turned, he found it increasingly difficult to either get to sleep or have sleep not filled with nightmares of sharp teeth and ripping flesh.

“Glad to hear it.” Derek sounded sincere for once, and placed a plate in front of Stiles. It had sausages, bacon, eggs, and toast that all looked completely delicious. Stiles caught the drool before it hit the counter.

“My god, you really are a keeper.” He immediately dug in, stopping for no man. Not even the sight of Derek stripping off his shirt could… Well, okay, maybe it could. “What are you doing?” He squeaked, bacon hanging out of his mouth. Derek snorted at the sight and placed his shirt next to Stiles on the counter.

“I need you to wear my clothes, and I’ll need to wear yours. Scent marking.” He added at Stiles’ confused look. It was so nearly a sexual fantasy that Stiles was _this close_ to popping a boner. But he didn’t, which was the important part.

Could werewolves smell arousal?

Stiles realised he probably should’ve answered, if Derek’s raised eyebrows were anything to go by. Or maybe that was because Stiles was checking him out. Whichever.

“Uh, sorry… Yeah, okay. I’ll just, uh, finish this,” Derek looked like he was holding in laughter, his mouth twisting, “Okay, ass hole. You can’t blame me! You’re a freaking Adonis which is completely unfair. I am a teenage boy! With hormones! God, leave me alone to my breakfast you heathen.”

This time Derek did laugh, throwing his head back in amusement. That just meant Stiles could check out his neck. Derek dropped his head again and then they were making eye contact. Stiles would be damned if he were the one to break first. He just sat there, staring at Derek, daring him to back down. It seemed like Derek had the same idea. After a few minutes, hours? Derek broke the silence, his voice low and gravelly.

“Remember to give me your shirt, or I’ll rip it off you… With my teeth.” With that, he broke eye contact and walked away to where Stiles guessed was his bedroom.

Was that a sexual invitation?

Was it a flirtation?

Stiles would be damned if he knew. He decided to try not to think about it and finished his breakfast as fast as he could. He stripped off his shirt and swapped it for Derek’s that was still on the counter.

When he slipped it over his head he got hit with the smell of after shave and what could only be described as _Derek._ It felt weird to know what Derek’s scent was, but with the amount of times Stiles had saved his life it isn’t really that much of a surprise.

He grabbed the blanket off the floor and trudged over to the sofa in search of his phone. He was still wearing his jeans from last night because he didn’t have time to change so he didn’t have to get dressed. He scrambled around with the cushions for a while before pulling it out from a tiny crevice with a victory fist bump. Unlocking it came with a barrage of texts, from practically the entire pack.

**Lydia 07:42-** _You better be up soon, Stiles. I’m coming over at 10:00 exactly and I will not tolerate having to get you out of bed._

**> Lydia 09:48- ** _I’m up, I’m up! Hope you can deal with bed head._

**Ally 08:42-** _Sorry I couldn’t be there, Stiles! I’m sure you’ll be fine ;)_

**> Ally 09:48- ** _I know, ally. You shut up with your winky face._

**Scott 09:01-** _ur not dead r u?!_

**> Scott 09:49- ** _No, buddy. I just had bacon and eggs and have never felt more alive!_

**Isaac 09:05-** _Scott is pouting and I need him to stop. Tell him you’re not dead._

**> Isaac 09:49- ** _Just did. Give him a kiss from me!_

He even got one from Jackson.

**Jackson 07:50-** _I’m coming with Lydia. Don’t piss me off._

**> Jackson 09:50- ** _Don’t tempt me, jack ass._

He looked at the time on his phone and realised it was 9:50. He had ten minutes until Lydia got here and he was in no state to start ‘Mate Training’. He was going to need all the luck in the world to do this. Maybe he could wash off the nervousness in a shower.


	3. Day 1- Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets a makeover and Derek is awkward.

Lydia and Jackson arrived at exactly 10. Like there was any doubt. They walked straight in and Lydia plopped her handbag on the kitchen counter before walking over to Stiles and giving him a once over, Jackson trailing behind.

“Oh Stiles, this just won’t do,” She touched her index finger to her lip and addressed Jackson without looking behind her, “What do you think?”

“I think he looks like Stiles,” He frowned in fake thought, “So, awful.”

“Hey, fuck you. Not all of us can look perfect straight out of bed.” Stiles winced at the accidental compliment and Jackson preened. Lydia looked between them and rolled her eyes.

“Let’s just get started, shall we?” Stiles stumbled back at the look in her eyes.

“Get started with what?” His voice cracked slightly.

“With your makeover, of course.” She stepped forward menacingly.

 _Oh god,_ he thought, _this is how my life ends._

30 minutes later found him sat on the floor between Lydia’s legs as she styled his hair from her perch on the sofa. He could be a candle from the amount of wax she was putting in his hair.

“It’s gel, numbskull,” Jackson corrected him when he voiced his thoughts. Stiles flipped him off.

“Please tell me again why we’re doing this now? The pack isn’t going to be here for another month.”

Lydia smacked his hand away when he tried to touch his hair.

“Because you need to be able to do this for yourself by then.” She resumed her work and Stiles glared at Jackson where he was smirking leant against the kitchen counter.

“I don’t see why you’re so smug, she probably did this to you too.” Stiles raised his eyebrows.

Jackson tutted and shook his head, but Lydia spoke up from behind Stiles.

“I did. He was a mess when we met.” She smiled sweetly at Jackson.

“I already had the perfect face. What does Stiles have?” He gestured vaguely at where Stiles was still ungracefully sprawled on the floor.

“His eyes are nicer,” Came a voice from the hole in the wall. Stiles gaped at the compliment but recovered quickly.

“Thanks, babe.”

Derek just rolled his eyes and stepped gracefully over the jagged bricks to walk towards the kitchen. Jackson looked between them with an even smugger look on his face than before.

“What?” Stiles snapped at him. Jackson simply shrugged and raised an eyebrow.

“Just enjoying the show.”

What does that even mean? Stiles had spent too long trying to understand Jackson’s level of douchebaggery so he just frowned at him and tried to get into a more comfortable position.

“Would you stop moving? I’m nearly done.” Lydia complained. Stiles whined dramatically and stilled, trying to not think about the fact that his left butt cheek was going numb.

This whole palaver was becoming much more effort than Stiles first thought. He was going to go through with it, though. And not just because he got to see Derek _shirtless_ that morning (and hopefully again at some point). He was going to do it because his pack needed him to.

He always felt isolated in the pack, like he was the only one that didn’t have anything. Scott, Isaac, Derek and Jackson were werewolves, Lydia was a freaking banshee, and Allison was a bad to the ass hunter. Stiles wasn’t really anything. He didn’t have anything to bring to the table, nothing to offer everyone that would genuinely help. He was alright at making plans, but they would have Lydia for that if he was gone.

He needed this as much as the pack did.

“I’m done!” Stiles jumped a little as Lydia broke him out of his train of thought. She pulled on his shoulders until he turned around to face her.

“Am I fergalicious yet?” He did a little shimmy and waggled his eyebrows.

“You really will make them boys go loco,” Lydia replied and Stiles smiled. He liked her way better when she went along with his jokes. “Once you get out of that ugly shirt,” He frowned and tugged on its hem.

“I can’t.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“You can’t?” There was an underlying threat in her tone so Stiles threw a pleading look in Derek’s direction. _Please don’t let her kill me,_ he tried to tell him with his mind. Derek walked back in with a mug of coffee in his hand and tugged on his own shirt.

“Scent marking. He’s wearing mine and I’m wearing his.”

Jackson burst out laughing at this, clutching his stomach and holding the counter for support. Lydia hummed in acceptance and went back to scrutinising Stiles.

“What’s so funny, ass hat?” Stiles shouted over to Jackson who wiped his eyes and managed to stop laughing so hard, just chuckling quietly.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m gonna go call Danny.”

With that, he walked out of the loft before laughing obnoxiously loud again once the door was shut. Stiles raised a questioning eyebrow at Lydia who was looking at the door with what could only be called exasperation.

“You want to tell me what he found so funny?”

“Like you don’t know,” She replied before standing and neatening her skirt. Stiles stood too and flailed, trying to get across that _no, he does not know what is so funny._ She predictably ignored him, “Now I’m going to go top up my makeup before we go shopping.”

She had a dangerous glint in her eye again when she looked Stiles up and down. Then she left down the corridor with a flip of her glorious hair.

“I will never not fear that woman,” He said as he turned around to Derek. He was sat on the armchair sipping his coffee and staring at Stiles curiously. Stiles looked down at himself, “What?” He asked when he looked back up. Derek’s nostrils flared and he shook his head.

“Nothing. It’s just-” His face pinched, “You smell like me.”

He said it like it explained everything, but Stiles was just more confused.

“Isn’t that kind of the point of the clothes sharing?” Stiles went to touch his hair but stopped when he thought about the wrath that would come down on him from Lydia if he did. His hand dropped back to his side. Derek’s eyes were still boring into his.

“Yeah,” Was all that Derek replied before he shook his head and picked up his book from the table. _Weird._

“Hey, put that book back down, we’re not done talking. I need to know everything there is to know about this pack,” He gestured wildly, “Like now, please.”

Derek sighed and flicked his eyes up to Stiles who was still stood in front of him. He slowly put the book down and crossed his arms, probably to look as menacing as possible while sat down. It just made his biceps bulge so ‘menacing’ was not the word coming to Stiles’ mind.

“They’re like every other wolf pack, Stiles.”

“That tells me nothing. You know what I know about pack politics? Nothing!” He flailed again and started to pace. “I am going to be completely useless in this if I know nothing. How about we start with how I talk to the alpha. I have no etiquette so that’d be a good place the start.” He continued to pace and Derek just watched him exasperatedly.

“You address her as Alpha Mason until she tells you otherwise. You also do not speak to her unless she speaks to you first or I invite you into the conversation,” That was potentially the most speech Stiles had ever heard come out of Derek’s mouth. He would savour the moment but there were more important things at hand.

“Where does Scott come into all this? I mean, he’s an alpha too so surely he should be involved somewhere?” Derek grabbed his book and went over to the bookshelf, probably pre-empting that Stiles would have many more questions. He was _so_ right.

“He will be introduced as an alpha, but will have to show that he has submitted to me,” Derek replied as he leant on the bookshelf.

“That sounds sexual.”

“It’s not,” Derek said with a roll of his eyes, “He just has to do what I say, when I say it and we should be fine.”

“Okay, alright. Yeah… Cool.” Now Stiles was just thinking about how he could submit sexually to Derek. _Bad brain,_ he scolded himself. “Anything else?” Derek looked taken aback by the general question. Which, rude, because Stiles can ask general questions! He isn’t always super specific!

“Just be generally polite. Shake their hands, be respectful to their wishes. Just,” His face pinched again, “Be like Scott.”

“So not like me, what a surprise,” Stiles muttered under his breath.

“Stiles,” _stupid werewolf hearing,_ “It’s not about your personality.” He started to walk over to where Stiles had stopped pacing in front of the sofa, “This pack doesn’t care about personality. Most werewolves don’t. They just care about power and politics. You’re fine the way you are all the rest of the time, just not when they’re here.” Stiles gaped. No, _that_ was the most speech he had ever heard come out of Derek.

“Thanks, I guess.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. Derek was stood right in front of him now, and he looked so sincere it almost hurt.

“Oh and,” Derek’s face closed off again, “Don’t flirt with anyone.”

“I don’t flirt!” Stiles squawked indignantly. Derek raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him.

“Of course, you don’t.” He turned towards the kitchen and grabbed the keys from the counter.

“I totally don’t!” Stiles shouted at Derek’s retreating back as he went out the door. Lydia sashayed back in with her perfect face and perfect everything. “I don’t flirt, do I?”

“Not with me.” She replied serenely, “Why?” Stiles pouted and gestured at the door.

“Derek said I do.” Lydia nodded in understanding.

“That makes sense,” She grabbed her bag off the counter again and came up to Stiles’ side, holding out her arm. He linked his through hers while trying to tell her with his eyebrows _what the hell is that supposed to mean?_ She, predictably, ignored it, “Come on, let’s go shopping.”

Four hours later, he still hadn’t figured out what she meant. But hey, at least he had pretty much a whole new wardrobe.


	4. Babe, Der, Love, Sweetie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack came EARLY?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OI OI the last chapter of the original fic that i abandoned and am coming back to
> 
> few edits in this one
> 
> pls enjoy

“You look pretty cool, dude.” Scott greeted him when he walked up to his locker the next day. Stiles had his hair done, which he did himself _thank you,_ and was wearing one of the extremely tight fitting and surprisingly comfortable outfits that Lydia picked out for him along with one of Derek’s leather jackets. Fucking _scent marking,_ man.

“I’d totally do you,” Isaac added unhelpfully.

“I’m going to take those as insults,” Stiles grumpily opened his locker and pulled out the books he needed for his first lessons. It took _so fucking long_ to get his hair right this morning. At least 20 minutes were wasted in front of a mirror when Stiles could’ve been spending that time eating or pooping.

“They were compliments! You have to take them as compliments!” Scott demanded, smacking him on the shoulder.

“Your boyfriend just said he would _do me_. Forgive me if I don’t like that,” Stiles rolls his eyes, “I mean, he’s attractive but probably _really_ demanding in bed.”

“You’re not wrong.” Scott shrugged. Stiles did _not_ need to know that.

“Do _not-_ ” Stiles pointed at him then dropped his hand, “You know what, I am better than this. I can handle you talking about your sex life.”

“Scott loves being needed. So, it’s all good,” Isaac smiled down at Scott and Stiles suddenly had the urge to choke himself with one of his books. He _could not_ do this, “Anyway, you probably don’t like that because _you’re_ demanding in bed.”

“Hey, if Scott’s into that crap then there is someone out there for me too,” Stiles waggled his eyebrows, “Maybe I should ask Derek,” Isaac’s smile twitched and Scott shuffled a little awkwardly, “What?”

“Nothing,” Scott quickly replied. Too quickly, “Absolutely nothing at all.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Stiles narrowed his eyes, “I don’t have werewolf hearing and even _I_ can tell that your heartbeat just spiked.”

“It did _no-_ ”

“It did.” Isaac nodded and Stiles pointed at him as if to say ‘ _See?’_

“Dude.” Scott looked up at Isaac with betrayal in his eyes.

“What?” Isaac replied, “It’s not like he doesn’t know. It couldn’t be more obvious.” He scoffed and Stiles looks between them, confusion growing.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh please,” Isaac gave him a look, “This whole oblivious thing is so obviously an act. No one is that stupid.”

“What exactly am I acting oblivious to?” Stiles felt like if his eyes narrowed anymore they would just be shut.

“I told you he doesn’t know!” Scott gestured a hand towards Stiles like he wasn’t even there. He was there! And he wanted answers!

“How can he not know?” Isaac looked at him like Stiles was a rare and ugly breed of some endangered species.

“How can I not know what?!” Stiles flailed his arms out and accidentally slammed his locker shut in the process.

“Nothing,” Isaac and Scott said at the same time.

“Is it something to do with my sexual prowess?” Stiles raised his eyebrows, “Like, can werewolves smell my skill or something?”

“Yeah,” Isaac nodded dramatically, “That’s definitely it.” Scott stifled a laugh behind his hand.

“No, it’s not,” Stiles shook his head, “You’re a terrible liar too.”

“Well-” Scott started nervously but the bell rang overhead, “Oh, thank God.”

“Saved by the bell,” Isaac winked at Stiles, “We best be off.”

“See you later, Stiles, buddy.” Scott waved at him and Isaac led him away.

“What am I oblivious to?!” Stiles tried to shout after them but either their super hearing had stopped working suddenly or they were ignoring him. It was probably the latter.

*

“You have to be- Hey Derek!” Stiles smiled as he walked down the stairs at the front of school. For God knows what reason, Derek was stood leaning against his fancy ass car in the parking lot.

“Get in the car.”

“Oh, honey-bunch, only if you ask poli-”

“Get in the fucking car, Stiles.”

“Al-righty then.” Stiles scurried around to the other side of the Camaro and hopped into the passenger seat. He liked his insides on the _inside,_ thanks. He gave Derek a curious look when he climbed into the driver’s seat and the slightly threatening man in question sighed.

“They arrived early,” He explained. What does that- oh, _oh no._

“The pack?! They came early?!” Stiles threw out his right arm and accidentally hit the car door, “Shit, ow.” He cradled it to his chest with a wince.

“That’s what I just said,” Derek was probably rolling his eyes under those glasses, “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Aw, my hubby wants me to stay safe,” Stiles buckled in, “Isn’t that sweet.”

“Well you’re no use to me dead.”

“Aw,” Stiles kept his sickly-sweet tone, “That must be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” He didn’t so much see Derek’s hands tighten on the steering wheel as hear the leather creak in warning.

“Shut up.”

“Love you too, sweetie.” Stiles settled back into his seat, “Wait, what the fuck are we going to do?!”

“Wing it,” Derek didn’t bother looking at him.

“Wing it?” Stiles repeated incredulously, “Wing it?! When has winging it ever worked out for us? Remember your genius plan to just ‘wing it’ when you went into the bank? That didn’t exactly work in your favour.”

“We had a plan then,” Derek defended.

“Yeah, and when Scott hesitated and said maybe it wasn’t that well thought through, you were being all preachy alpha about saving your pack,” Stiles raised his eyebrows, “And look where that got you.”

Derek stayed silent and Stiles realised that might not have been the best thing to say.

“You think I don’t know that?” Derek gritted through his teeth, “I don’t go a day without thinking about Erica and Boyd. It was my fault, I shouldn’t have turned them in the first place,” Derek’s hands loosened on the wheel, “I don’t need you, of all people, blaming me too.”

“I- Okay, that was uncalled for,” Stiles conceded and put a hand on Derek’s shoulder which he didn’t immediately shrug off which is progress, “You were a great alpha and it wasn’t your fault they died, okay? I don’t blame you.”

“Thank you.” Derek seemed to let some tension out of his shoulders and Stiles removed his hand and put it awkwardly in his lap.

“No problem, man,” He smiled what he hoped was reassuringly, “Hey, what did you mean me ‘of all people’?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Derek gruffly replied.

“Yes, it does! Tell me!”

“How did you know what I said?”

“What?” Stiles stopped flailing and pouting in favour of frowning at Derek.

“You weren’t there, and I doubt Scott had time to tell you what I said outside the bank. You pretty much just quoted it.” Derek turned his head towards him slightly.

“Keep your eyes on the road!” Stiles moved his face so it was facing the front, “I don’t know. I just knew.” He shrugged and looked out of the passenger window.

“That’s not right,” Derek muttered mostly to himself.

“Why?” Stiles turned back to him.

“We’re here.” Derek pulled up at his loft and climbed out of the car. When would Stiles get some fucking _answers?_

“For fuck’s sake,” He muttered to himself, following Derek up the stairs. Still no elevator.

He eventually reached the top but was huffing and puffing like a wolf about to blow down some poor little pigs’ houses. Well, maybe the one made of twigs. Derek was waiting for him outside of the door with his arms crossed and glasses resting in the collar of his shirt, “We don’t all have magical werewolf fitness, you know.”

“No, but most people can handle a flight of stairs without nearly dying,” He glanced towards the door, “Dear.”

“Maybe next time you should carry me up, babe,” Stiles teased with a waggle of his eyebrows. Derek’s glare should probably scare him but after years of having it directed at him he was used to it. He walked up to the big brood and picked up his arm to put it over his own shoulders, then wrapped his own around Derek’s waist. Derek’s arm tightened around his shoulders for a moment before he opened the door and stepped inside.

The smell was kind of overwhelming.

It wasn’t a bad smell, which was what Stiles was expecting. The whole loft stunk of cologne and perfume, which was probably coming from the pack of wolves hanging around the place that Stiles presumed was the visiting pack.

There was one woman who seemed to radiate authority over near the bookshelf. She had long blonde hair and only looked slightly over thirty despite the laughter lines around her eyes and the aged look in her eyes which could only come from years of looking after a whole pack of wolves.

The only other really distinguished looking stranger was stood near the alpha, watching the room like a bodyguard. He had wispy brown hair and didn’t look much older than twenty. Stiles would be lying if he said he didn’t find him attractive.

“Should we go say hello, Der?” The nickname just slipped out and even Derek looked slightly surprised because it wasn’t mocking at all.

“Sure,” He replies and guided Stiles over to whom he had presumed was the alpha, “Alpha Mason,” He greeted.

“Hello, Derek,” She smiled warmly at him and her gaze drifted to Stiles. He felt like she was seeing into his soul and automatically tightened his hand on Derek’s hip. He felt the hand draped on his shoulder move up and down his arm slightly and relaxed his own, “And I’m assuming you’re Mr Stilinski? Derek’s mate?”

“That’s me, ma’am,” Stiles cringed, “I mean, alpha Mason.”

“No need for the formalities, call me Verity,” She smiled again and even without the sharp teeth, it still looked slightly feral.

“Beautiful name. I’m Stiles,” He held out a hand. She looked down at it like it was a foreign object and Stiles suddenly realised that it might be rude to offer to shake hands with someone else’s alpha. Is it scent-marking or something?

“Very unique name,” Verity took his hand hesitantly and shook it for a moment before releasing it again. It dropped uselessly at Stiles’ side.

“He’s a very unique person.” Derek smiled at him and it was almost convincing. Derek could have even been described as sounding _fond._

“I’m sure he is. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the little wolf’s room.” She wandered off down the corridor with a swish of her long dress which seemed awfully formal for just visiting a pack. The good-looking guy went to follow her, but before he left he looks Stiles up and down then smiled at him. Stiles smiled back on instinct but realised that might not have been a good idea when he heard a growl rumble slightly beside him.

“Should I not have smiled?” He said out of the side of his mouth, really hoping none of the wolves were bothering to listen out for any whispering.

“He checked you out and you smiled at him. He’s breaching on territory, technically.” Derek tilted his head, still staring in the direction of the guy that left.

“I can’t smile at other guys?” Stiles looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, “That’s kinda stupid.”

“Not other wolves, love,” Stiles tried not to squirm in delight at the term of endearment, “We’re very protective of our property.”

“What, so I’m your property now?” He smiled teasingly, turning so he was facing Derek and put his hands on the other man’s hips.

“Pretty much.” Derek looked him in the eyes as he said it and Stiles never really got used to how intense his stare could be. He’s a stubborn asshole though, so he refuses to break eye contact.

“I’m not sure I like my independence being taken away,” Stiles shrugged, “But I can work with being your property.”

“Good.” Derek smirked, “Because for the unforeseeable future, you’re mine.”

“Yours.” Stiles stepped close enough that he could feel Derek’s breath against his lips. He stayed there for a few moments before stepping away again and smiling, “I’m going to go see Scott.”

 

“Alright, babe. Stay near.” Derek winked and smacked his ass as he walked away. Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation and wink back.

 

“Dude.” Scott wrinkled his nose when Stiles sat down next to him on the sofa.

 

“What?” Stiles grabbed the drink from Scott’s hand and went to take a sip before stopping and groaning, “If I do this I’ll be cheating in wolf world won’t I.”

 

“Yeah.” Scott shrugged.

 

“I just wanted some apple juice,” Stiles pouted as he gave the drink back. Why was his life so _hard?_

 

“Dude,” Scott repeated, “You just flirted with Derek. _Derek.”_

 

“I did, didn’t I?” Stiles looked over to where Derek was stood reading a book where he left him.

 

“Aren’t you bothered by that?”

 

“ _No,”_ Stiles frowned at his lap, “Why aren’t a bothered by that?”

 

“I think I know,” Scott smiled sweetly and raised his eyebrows.

 

“No, you don’t,” Stiles pointed at him, “Whatever I think you think you know? You don’t. So don’t.”

 

“You liiiike him!” Scott said far too loudly for Stiles’ liking.

 

“That’s kind of a given, he’s my mate.” Stiles scoffed looking with wide eyes at the foreign wolves in the room as if to say ‘Scott, remember that visiting pack? Yeah, they think me and Derek are mates so stop.’

 

“Oh, right, of course,” Scott nodded dumbly, “But you know what I mean.”

“I know what you’re trying to insinuate and I don’t like it, so stop,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “Flirting is flirting is flirting. Nothing to it.”

“Would you flirt with me?” Scott smiled like a proud dog. Well, he kind of _was_ a proud dog.

“Are you kidding?! Isaac would eat me alive.”

“He’s right!” Isaac yelled from across the room, “I would.” Stiles gestured to him and gave Scott a pointed look.

“That’s not my point,” The puppy sighed.

“I don’t care what your point was.” Stiles stood up again, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go talk to my mate, Derek, who is now my new favourite person. He doesn’t judge me for stuff, he just tells me to shut up all the time because he doesn’t give a shit what I do.”

“You keep believing that, Stiles.” Scott looked at him with something close to sympathy.

“What does that _mean?”_ Stiles narrowed his eyes for what feels like the 20th time that day, “Is there some sort of conspiracy going on in the pack I don’t know about? You’re all so fucking shifty lately.”

“Nothing new is going on, bro.” Scott smiled at him.

“I will choose to believe you for now, but I will interrogate you later.” Stiles made an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture before walking away and back to his wonderful _mate_ , “So, der-bear, watcha readin’?”


	5. Spilling Insecurities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put a lot of feels in here
> 
> they bein' soft bois

The rest of the meeting went fairly smoothly. Isaac and Scott charmed everyone, predictably, because they were both funny and adorable. Then Lydia and Jackson were equally popular. Mostly because of Lydia. Clearly, a banshee in a werewolf pack was rare. They asked endless questions, and the only thing Jackson was good for in that time was that he was good enough at schmoozing that he could get Lydia away without pissing anyone off.

Stiles just clung to Derek’s side.

He learned the guy’s name. It was Jaden. He kept giving Stiles sly looks, like something about him was just delicious. It was probably something about the challenge of trying to get an opposing alpha’s mate. Either way, Stiles tried hard to not look interested. But he _liked it._ He liked the attention. It felt good whenever Derek had to act jealous, pull him closer, and stare at Jaden until he looked away. It made Stiles almost forget that it was all fake.

“It was lovely to meet you all,” Verity smiled serenely at them, as the rest of her pack started making their way out of the loft. She seemed to be lingering, and Stiles couldn’t pinpoint why. She kept looking at him calculatingly. Her side kick was loitering by the door, also staring at Stiles. He cleared his throat and nudged Derek’s side.

“You too,” Derek said shortly, casting a hard glance towards the man at the door.

“We should do something else,” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and entwined their fingers, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach and hoping he wasn’t overstepping any pack politics boundaries, “You have a wonderful pack, and it would be an honour to spend more time with you all.”

“Yes,” Derek jumped in on the idea, finally tearing his gaze away from the man, “There’s an amazing hike on the outskirts of the town.”

“I was more thinking-” Verity bit her lip, her eyes turning more mischievous and childlike than Alpha werewolf- “Bowling.”

“I love bowling!” Stiles shouted, then smacked a hand over his mouth, “Sorry,” He mumbled through it.

“It’s okay,” Derek squeezed his hand, “Bowling sounds great. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Verity’s smile seemed more genuine when she left, and Stiles kept his face blank when the man smiled at him before he followed her.

The door closed, and the entire pack stayed silent until there was the sound of multiple cars pulling away from the car park downstairs.

“Great job, guys,” Derek smiled slightly, and the entire group burst into cheers.

Scott and Isaac hugged, Jackson picked Lydia up and span her around, and Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck in a crushing hug. He turned his head so his nose was in Derek’s neck, and he could smell what was so familiar now. It smelt like his jackets, his shirts, _him._

Derek had wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, and let out a small laugh against his neck. It would have been easy to get lost in it, to relish in the warmth and the love Stiles felt. The word love stuck in his head. He pulled away before he started kissing Derek’s stupid neck and his stupid face.

It made it more difficult when Derek was giving him this look. This _look._ Like he saw something in Stile’s no one else saw. Like smiling was natural. Like- like-

“Did I do good?” Stiles tried not to freak himself out any more, “Did I get everything right?”

Scott patted him on the back and pulled him into a quick hug.

“You did amazing, bro,” Scott grinned when he pulled away, but Stiles kept looking at Derek, waiting for him to answer instead.

“You were incredible,” Derek assured him, arms crossed, his smile still in place, “I don’t think they’d have been so enthusiastic to see us again if it weren’t for you.”

Stiles couldn’t reply. It was such a huge compliment. It wasn’t about his appearance, his mate acting, it was about who he was. How he acted. Stiles just stared, mouth open, unable to contain his smile.

“We’re all proud of you,” Lydia tilted her head, looking him up and down fondly.

“Even me,” Jackson shrugged, and Stiles grinned at him.

“Aw, I knew I’d break you one day,” He held his arms out in an invitation for a hug.

“No,” Jackson waved a hand, his face wrinkling in disgust, “Never.”

“I’ll take that,” Isaac pulled Stiles in instead, resting his head on top of Stiles’ which was _condescending_ and _strangely nice._

He was suddenly pulled away by strong hands, and Derek looked shocked to find out it was him that did it. He shook his head, then schooled his expression.

“You’ll end up getting your smell on him,” He said as an explanation. Stiles frowned.

“But, Scott hugged me a minute ago.”

“That was-” Derek shuffled in place- “Different.”

“Okay, enough boy drama,” Lydia waved a hand, “Are we all going bowling? Surely that’ll be hard to organise.”

“No,” Derek answered immediately, “It’ll only be me, the alpha, her second in command, and Stiles.”

Stiles had guessed he would be going, but surely that would mean Verity would take her mate? Like a werewolf double date. He was about to voice his thoughts aoud, but Derek seemed to guess what he was going to say before he could say it.

“Her mate is back in their town. He’s sick.”

“Oh,” Stiles nodded, slightly creeped out by how Derek seemed to read his mind, “Okay.”

They had a short debrief, which more meant chatting about what happened and who their favourite pack members were. Stiles mentioned Jaden and how attractive he was, and everyone gave him the same, blank, done look.

After that, they watched a movie, and everyone went home. Everyone except for Stiles that is.

With the pack early, it was more important than ever to keep up the scent marking. That meant clothes exchange, proximity, and living together. Stiles didn’t mind it. In fact, he was keener than ever to get close to Derek. It was the only opportunity he was going to get to be able to act like they were together. After this, it’d be back to normal. Back to the only time Stiles and Derek being close happens when one of them is dying.

Stiles tried not to think about it.

“Come on, der-bear,” Stiles rolled his eyes when Derek tensed up at their closeness on the sofa. He ignored the twinge of hurt, “Cuddling is mate mandatory. If we want to smell like each other this is the best way to do it.”

Stiles hopes he sounded convincing. He had no idea how scent marking worked. He just hoped that Derek wouldn’t think about it too much and _cuddle_ him already. Stiles _needed_ this.

After a moment’s hesitation, Derek opened his arms and Stiles immediately snuggled into them. The positioning was awkward and uncomfortable, and Stiles was about to say something about it when Derek manhandled him so they were both lying on their sides, Derek spooning Stiles, his breath on the back of his neck.

It was a lot. Stiles tried to contain himself. Derek’s hand was on his hip, resting to delicately that it was hard to tell it was even there. Stiles knew it was there, though.

Then he realised they’d paused the TV, and the remote was on the table.

“Derek,” Stiles said, and hoped his voice didn’t sound too strangled, “Get the remote.”

“You’re closer.” Derek’s voice was right by Stiles’ ear, and he held in a yelp.

“I’m comfy, though.” He turned his head and pouted, trying to ignore how close their faces were. Derek met his eyes, then his gaze dropped to his lips. Stiles was almost convinced he was going to kiss him when he suddenly rolled his eyes and reached for the remote, bringing them even closer.

Once he had it, and settled back down, he didn’t bother to move away. They were touching from their thighs to shoulders, and it was driving Stiles insane.

Derek did some adjusting behind him, grabbing a cushion from the bottom of the sofa and putting it under his head. Stiles didn’t dare move in case he ruined the atmosphere, in case Derek decided it was too much and went away.

He laid back down, and played the TV. Stiles was holding his breath.

He closed his eyes and tried to contain himself when Derek fully rested his arm over Stiles’ side and put his hand on his stomach.

“Calm down,” Derek said, rubbing what he must’ve thought were comforting circles with his thumb. Instead it was just leaving fire behind.

“I am calm,” Stiles said, not at all calm.

Derek huffed a small laugh. So small that Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if he wouldn’t have even heard it if they weren’t so close. He wondered how many other laughs like those he had missed over the years.

“I can hear your heart,” Derek whispered, “It’s erratic.”

Stiles closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath. Honesty or lie? That was the question.

“This is just- weird,” Honesty it is, then.

Derek’s thumb stilled.

“Do you want to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Stiles shouted immediately, “No, you’re not. It’s just- I’ve never- I’ve never been in a relationship or- or anything.”

Derek hummed in acknowledgement, waiting for Stiles to continue.

“No one has ever been this close to me and no one has ever wanted to,” He sighed, “At least not because it’s _me.”_

“I doubt that’s true,” The film was playing on unnoticed in front of them, and Derek tightened his arm, as if to reassure Stiles that he was there.

“Some girl only wanted to have sex with me because I was an easy target,” Stiles started to list, “You only want me because of pack politics. Jaden was only interested because I’m the opposing Alpha’s mate.”

Derek was silent for a moment, and Stiles stared at the screen, not really taking anything in. He didn’t mean to spill his stupid feelings everywhere, but here they were, drowning in insecurities. Stiles’ eyes started to sting from holding back pathetic tears.

“You’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for, Stiles,” He pulled on Stiles’ shoulder so he laid on his back, and Derek moved so he was above him. Their lower bodies were in the same position, but now their eyes could meet, and Derek’s were full of sincerity, “We would all be dead if it weren’t for you, especially me. You’re clever, you’re full of heart, and you care about things that people don’t usually think about. You’re so- so _human._ Anyone who can’t see that is an idiot. Someone will love you as fiercely as you love everything.”

Stiles couldn’t say anything, so caught up in Derek’s words and the fondness in his eyes that nothing else mattered. He pulled Derek down into a hug, and tried to hide a sniffle.

“Thank you,” He whispered. Derek didn’t say anything, just pulled him closer, and moved them so that they were facing each other, laid on their sides, so close that Stiles could _die._

“Go to sleep.” Derek ran his hand over the side of Stiles’ face, then seemed to realise what he was doing and retracted it. He reached over again to turn the TV off, and Stiles watched his face in the dark, unable to stop himself from staring.

When Derek laid back down, he met Stiles’ eyes, unreadable. Feeling daring in the darkness of the room, Stiles held out a hand between them. Derek looked at it in confusion, then realised when Stiles wiggled his fingers what he wanted. He joined their hands.

Stiles closed his eyes, and hugged Derek’s hand to his chest. This was everything he wanted. If only it were real.

Banishing the thought from his mind, he fell asleep with Derek’s hand in his own, hoping he would have a peaceful night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE TO COME I PROMISE


	6. Bowl, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When bowling, things get out of hand. And not just the bowling ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I'M BACK
> 
> whoop whoop 
> 
> finally things go right or wrong and things happen that are more than a makeover or little bonding moment (i cradled you in my arms!)  
> wrong show i know
> 
> enjoy!

The morning was awkward, to say the least. Stiles had said too much, shown too much, and he felt like there were a million bugs under his skin. He was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. A scathing comment, maybe a judging look. Nothing came. Derek made him breakfast, like he’d done before, and they swapped T shirts, as usual.

Stiles kept stealing glances, his heart skipping a beat every time their eye met. Derek gave nothing away.

The doubts swirling around Stiles’ head were unbidden. He didn’t mean to think about everything in such a negative light, it was just how his brain worked. He couldn’t have good things. If Derek was kind, and close, and reassuring the night before, that meant he had to snap back the next day. Nothing could go this right, not in Beacon Hills.

The preparations for bowling that night began swiftly. Lydia let herself into the loft first, Jackson having to work that day so therefore not trailing behind her. Scott came around an hour later, without Isaac because one of them had to help Deaton at the clinic and he wanted to be there to support Stiles. He ended up with Lydia, Scott, Alison, and Derek all stood around him.

“What outfit is good for bowling?” Alison tilted her head in consideration. It was a miracle she was here, really. Chris and the rest of the Argent clan had gone on a hunting ritual that was adults only. He left with strict instructions saying Alison _must_ stay home or there would be _consequences._ He should have known she wouldn’t care what he said. If Alison wanted to do something, she’d do it.

“Look! Derek is badly dressed, judge him!”

“Not as badly as you,” Lydia waved a hand in disgust, “He has the whole scruffy biker look going on, whereas you,” She sighed, “You look like a gangly teenager that doesn’t know how to wear anything other than plaid.”

“What do all of you have against plaid?” Stiles said quietly, pouting. Derek smiled, like he was enjoying this, and Stiles decided glaring at him would be much more fun than pretending to be sad. It wasn’t satisfying, though, because Derek simply smirked and walked away.

“Hey!” Stiles yelled, “You aren’t going to support your mate?”

“Nope,” Derek said without turning around, “I’m going for a shower. You can suffer alone.”

Stiles gaped, then slowly turned his head back to the people in front of him.

“I’m going to get popcorn.” Scott nodded decisively before heading to the kitchen. Alison and Lydia leant forward with devilish grins, and Stiles gulped.

“Help.”

*

“I feel stupid.”

“You look good.”

“This shirt doesn’t even fit me!”

“That’s because it’s mine,” Derek looked sideways at Stiles with an odd look on his face, “And I have wider shoulders than you. And bigger biceps.”

“Alright, mister muscles, no need to rub it in.” Stiles adjusted the leather jacket over his shoulders. It was stupid that he still had to wear Derek’s clothes, but apparently, he hadn’t properly started to smell like Derek yet, and that wasn’t good. Stiles didn’t understand how. They’d been cuddling for days, every night, and Stiles never wanted it to stop.

He was getting off track.

“Just so you know,” Derek’s breath tickled Stiles’ neck, and his heart thumped, “I’m going to thrash you.”

“Oh?” Stiles turned his head, so their noses were practically touching. If Verity and her little side kick were watching right now, this was a mate moment. A perfect scene, “We’ll see about that, Hale.”

“I guess we will, Stilinski.” Derek’s poker face was both terrifying and sexy, so Stiles smiled and looked away before he did something stupid like kiss the tip of Derek’s ridiculously cute nose. They headed into the bowling alley, and looked around for where the other two may be. They were sat on the sofas, bumping shoulders, and laughing as they put their shoes on. Stiles raised an eyebrow at their behaviour. Surely that was inappropriate if the alpha was mated, right? Or were they allowed to be buddy-buddy with their pack?

“Hey,” Verity must’ve heard them, and jumped up. She seemed much more relaxed this time, less like she wanted to make an impression, and more like she was ready to have fun. Stiles liked her, “Get your shoes, and we can get started.”

Stiles and Derek shared a look, and Stiles pursed his lips, trying to translate what he was thinking. A smirk started at the corner of Derek’s mouth, and his left eyebrow twitched. He knew.

Before Derek could get a head start, Stiles set off at a run to the counter. If they could just do this, be friends, and flirt a little for the sake of Verity (totally not because Stiles wanted to), this could be a fun night.

*

“Oh, what’s that I hear?” Stiles cupped a hand around his ear and crouched dramatically, “Sounds like crowds cheering.”

Turns out that Stiles is an _awesome_ bowler. He was beating Derek by over twenty points and the man wasn’t letting him win, if the frustrated scowl was anything to go by. He swung his arm around his ‘mate’s’ shoulders and grinned.

“You’re an infuriating winner.”

“I’m endearing,” Stiles said, tilting his head so he could properly admire the scruffy smile forming in place of the frown. Verity and Jaden were watching them, probably because it was Derek’s turn. Stiles pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. He told himself it was because of the fake mate thing, and not because he’d been dying to do it the whole night, “Take your turn, Der.”

Derek’s smile turned soft, and his eyes flicked towards Stiles for a moment before he stood up and grabbed a ball. It was the heaviest one, because obviously. He went up to the lane with his footing all wrong and a resigned expression on his face, so Stiles jumped up and ran over to him.

“Babe, if you’re going to lose, you gotta do it while at least trying.”

“I _have_ been trying,” Derek said, whiny, and Stiles pursed his lips to hold in a laugh, “I suck.”

“Your form sucks.”

Derek rolled his eyes, then they widened when Stiles’ hand rested on top of the one that was holding the ball. Stiles tried to ignore how exciting this felt, and just manoeuvred Derek until his hand looked like it was in the right place. Until this point he’d just been chucking it. He needed to, ya know, bowl it.

“Leg back,” Stiles whispered, close to Derek’s ear. The corner of his mouth ticked up when a blush appeared on the man’s cheeks. Could wolves control that? Could Derek make himself blush for the act? Stiles didn’t want to think about it, “Then swing back, and be gentler.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him, considering whether he should say what he wanted to, “Like you are with me, every night.”

Derek showed no reaction apart from an intake of breath and a quick glance.

“Go get ‘em,” Stiles winked and walked away, but stayed stood so he could watch Derek pull back, roll the ball, and get a strike, “Oh, my God!”

He cheered, whistled, and clapped as Derek walked back, grinning.

“You’re a good teacher.”

“Okay, you two,” Verity rolled her eyes, picking up a ball and exchanging it between her hands with ease, “I feel like you’re forgetting we’re even here.”

“Sorry,” Derek shrugged, “It happens sometimes.”

Later, while thinking back on it, Stiles would realise how true that was. Whenever Derek and Stiles were in the same room, they’d get into an argument, or debate, and end up so wrapped up in each other that they’d forget anyone else was there.

For now, though, he just laughed and leant his head on Derek’s shoulder to watch Verity take her turn. He didn’t notice Jaden’s eyes on him.

After another hour, bowling was over. Stiles was full of milkshake, fries, and victory. Not in a million years did he think he’d win, but here they were. Verity was a close second, which wasn’t that surprising. Jaden was bitter about coming third. He made direct eye contact with Stiles as he demanded a rematch at some point. Stiles didn’t reply.

Was it his imagination, or was Jaden really flirting with him? He had to know that was a no-no, right?

“Wait outside a minute, Stiles,” Derek said, releasing Stiles from under his arm. It was a shame, really, because he was perfectly comfortable there, “Verity wants to talk to me about something.”

“Okay,” Stiles bit his lip, trying not to be nervous.

Derek must’ve sensed this, because he kissed Stiles’ forehead before sending him off. There were so many feelings churning in his stomach that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Himself and Jaden were going to be outside, alone. Derek had just kissed him. On the forehead, but still. Now he was talking to Verity about alpha stuff.

Stiles had no idea how to feel.

“You’re a good bowler,” Jaden tried to start a conversation two minutes into their wait, “You really know how to handle a ball.”

Stiles nearly scoffed at the innuendo, but managed to hold it in because it was probably some kind of mate cheating to laugh at another wolf’s joke. Apparently, Jaden didn’t get the message.

“Woah,” Stiles backed up when Jaden crowded into his space. His blond hair was slicked back, and he had a look in his eyes that could be described as nothing apart from hungry, “You’re getting a little close there, bud.”

“Stop denying it,” Jaden stepped even closer, pushing Stiles against the wall of the bowling alley, “I know you want me. You haven’t been able to keep your eyes off me this whole trip.”

“I haven’t even looked at you tonight,” Stiles started to get frantic, and would have been flailing his arms if it weren’t for the werewolf in his way, “I have been purposefully not, so that _this_ -” He gestured between them- “didn’t happen. Now if you could just-”

Stiles tried to slide out to the side, but suddenly there was an arm there, hand by Stiles’ face. Jaden leaned closer.

“You’re being a tease.”

“I’m really not.”

Jaden tutted, and licked his lips. Stiles’ heart pumped with fear, and he knew that the guy would be able to smell it. Werewolves and chemo signals were like, a thing. He must’ve known Stiles was scared. Every time this happened, every time Stiles’ was scared, he was forced back to every time he felt it before. This time he saw a fist, a snarl, and he flinched.

“Please,” He said, pulling his lips into a thin line as if that would make any difference whatsoever.

Before Jaden could do anything, say anything, or even breathe, he was being ripped away and thrown against the wall next to Stiles, who quickly scurried away.

He went to Verity’s side to see that it was Derek, snarling in Jaden’s face with red eyes and fangs. Stiles’ eyes grew wide, and Verity looked like she was ready to get in there.

“Wait,” He held his hand out in front of her, and she looked at him with a raised brow. He just told an alpha to wait. And she obeyed. Oh god.

He walked over to where Derek looked more wolf, less human, by the second. His hands were fisted in Jaden’s jacket, and the man in question looked like he was going to shit himself. Or already had.

“Derek,” Stiles touched his shoulder, and tried to channel some kind of calmness into him, “You need to let go of him. We have to go home.”

Derek growled, a sound that Stiles used to find terrifying. Now he knew it just meant Derek didn’t know how else to express what he was feeling. He could be scared, angry, sad, irritated, and a growl would be all he could do to show that. Stiles gripped his shoulder harder.

“Please, Derek,” He pleaded, and Derek slowly turned his head, brown meeting red. Stiles moved his hand from Derek’s shoulder to his cheek, stroking his thumb lightly over the stubbled skin there, “You gotta gain control, I’m here. I’m okay. Come back to me.”

Derek heaved a breath, and let go of Jaden. His eyes were still glowing, and his mouth was still full of elongated teeth, but he had let go. That was all Stiles needed.

“You,” Derek glared into Jaden’s eyes, who immediately looked down, submitting, “Need to get out of my town before I do something I won’t regret.”

Stiles watched as Jaden ran away, not acknowledging his alpha, or anyone else. Stiles’ hand was still on Derek’s face, and he reluctantly let go and held his bicep instead. He felt like he was falling apart, and Derek was the only thing keeping him together. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. This was _not_ going to become a panic attack. Stiles refused to look so weak in front of an opposing alpha.

Derek’s hand covered his own, and when Stiles opened his eyes, grey met them.

“Are you okay?” Derek said quietly, gently, and Stiles melted.

“Kinda.” He gave him a lopsided smile, and Derek smiled back. Neither of them really meant it, but they were both trying to reassure the other. It sort of worked.

They both turned to Verity, who looked appropriately ashamed. She nodded her head at Derek before running the way Jaden went. Something told Stiles they wouldn’t be coming back.

Now that they were gone, and there was no one to hold up the pretence for, Stiles should technically let go. He didn’t want to.

*

“How did you know?”

“What?” Derek flipped the piece of steak and put it back on the grill before turning to Stiles. On the way back from bowling, they’d decided that they deserved some kind of treat for trauma. Derek decided on steak.

“That he was coming onto me?”

“I don’t know,” Derek frowned, “I couldn’t hear or smell anything, but- but I knew you were scared.”

“You could feel it.” Stiles concluded, staring at the kitchen counter.

“Yeah,” Derek sounded just as confused as Stiles was, “I guess it was like you knowing what happened outside the bank. You didn’t hear it, but you knew. You just- you just knew.”

Stiles met Derek’s eyes, then, and saw something he didn’t expect to. Understanding. He looked like he’d just realised something, and Stiles was still in the dark.

“What?” Stiles asked, “What did you just figure out?”

“Nothing.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, “That’s a lie.”

Derek turned back to the grill, trying to end the conversation, but Stiles wasn’t that easy to dismiss.

“Seriously.” Stiles stood, moving around the counter to stand by Derek’s side, “Mates aren’t meant to keep things from each other, right?

“We’re not mates.”

“So, you _are_ keeping something from me!”

“No.”

Derek stood up, meeting Stiles’ eyes with a blank expression. He crossed his arms. Stiles copied.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“Nope.”

“Tell me, Derek!”

“Jesus, Stiles,” Derek slammed a hand down on the counter, “Do you ever fucking quit? It’s none of your business. They’ve left, they’re gone, so you can move back in with your dad, okay?”

“Don’t you dare.” Stiles pointed, “Don’t you try and change the subject and kick me out before we can talk about this. It’s weird, right? That we know things that we shouldn’t know?”

“Stiles,” Derek said, a warning in his voice.

“You’re hiding something from me!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Stop lying!”

“Just fuck off, Stiles!” Derek shouted, and Stiles flinched back, “We did this, so that other people think we’re a strong pack. You don’t need to be here anymore,” His glare pierced through Stiles like a knife, “I don’t want you here anymore.”

If a heartbreak was audible, then Derek must’ve heard it. Stiles certainly felt it. He took a shaky step back, and his eyes dropped to the floor.

Derek didn’t want him here.

He never had.

Stiles nodded. It was all he could do. His throat had closed, and his eyes were stinging. Somehow, along the line, he had fallen for Derek. He had fallen for the act, fallen for the fake relationship, the movie nights, the speech from the night before. Stiles was an idiot.

He didn’t, couldn’t, look at Derek. He went to the living room and packed his things in silence, and heard the bedroom door slam.

Closing his eyes, he held in the tears. He wouldn’t let Derek hear that.

*

“Hey,” Stiles said to his dad when he got home. The sheriff took one look at him and his face fell.

“Oh, Stiles.”

That was all it took, just those two words, and Stiles was bursting into tears in his doorway.

Fuck Derek Hale, and fuck Stiles for falling in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme know what u think lads! cry for stiles with me!


	7. Little Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott perked up a bit, and shook Stiles’ leg.
> 
> “Wanna play video games, then watch movies until we fall asleep?” He suggested, and Stiles finally looked at him, feeling himself smile slightly, “I’ll let you be the little spoon even though I like to feel safe.”
> 
> The smile was full now, and Stiles was full of love.
> 
> “You’re the best friend ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this bitch is NOT gonna leave it like nearly a year to update bc she's A PRODUCTIVE BITCH
> 
> i promise this fic will be finished before 2019

One thing the Stilinskis did well was hiding feelings. After his mom, Stiles and his dad continued like nothing happened everywhere apart from home. Vulnerability was fine when it was just them. Putting your mopey problems on everyone else was just spreading the sadness. Stiles didn’t want to do that. Plus, it would mean awkward questions, awkward answers, stupid tears, and all that crap.

Stiles sat down on his bed, after a teary hug and explanation to his dad, and deflated. Above everything else, he was so _tired._ Tired of pretending everything was fine, that he wasn’t completely out of his league. He had no idea how to handle these things! How did people deal with feelings, anyway? Stiles knew what he did with Lydia wasn’t exactly the norm and he’d never go there again.

He thought about the look in Derek’s eyes, the blankness, the emptiness. There was nothing there that Stiles wanted to see. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to make eye contact with the guy again.

All the tears were gone. Stiles was dried out. He didn’t want to cry anymore.

He was surprised that his dad understood anything that he’d said when he explained what had happened. All he did was nod, say he was sorry, and go into the kitchen to start making some healthy snack that Stiles wouldn’t fuss about them eating.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, Stiles flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes.

It was only a few minutes later when his window slid open. Some stupid, _stupid,_ part of him thought it was Derek. Instead, it was Scott that ungracefully fell into his room with a groan.

“How does Derek ever do that?” He dusted himself off and stood up. Stiles only bothered opening one eye, staring in disgust. How dare he intrude on Stiles’ mourning? “Oh, wait,” Scott grimaced, “Bad word. Sorry.”

“You didn’t swear.”

“I meant,” Scott nodded meaningfully, “You know. Your dad texted.”

Of course.

Stiles sat up, suddenly finding himself unable to meet his best friend’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Scott said, his voice closer than before. He crouched so he was in Stiles’ line of sight, his concern obvious on his puppy dog face, “I know you’re sad, and I don’t really know what to do about it.”

“Me neither,” Stiles answered honestly, nibbling on some loose skin on his thumb. More than anything, he wanted this weird feeling in his gut to leave. It was an unbearable ache that was getting worse the longer he sat thinking about Derek and how stupid and beautiful he was.

Scott perked up a bit, and shook Stiles’ leg.

“Wanna play video games, then watch movies until we fall asleep?” He suggested, and Stiles finally looked at him, feeling himself smile slightly, “I’ll let you be the little spoon even though I like to feel safe.”

The smile was full now, and Stiles was full of love.

“You’re the best friend ever.”

*

Around an hour into their gaming session, there was a knock on the door, and Stiles’ dad answered it. He could see that Scott was listening, and there was a little tilt to his mouth that told Stiles he knew exactly who it was.

Stiles paused the game.

“Dude,” Scott said, exasperated. Stiles merely raised an eyebrow, and started the race downstairs.

Woah.

“Hello,” Lydia said from the porch, looking at Stiles and Scott with a smug smile where they stopped running halfway down the stairs.

“Do you have any popcorn?” Isaac asked Stiles’ dad.

“Did you really think we were going to just let you mope?” Allison crossed her arms, her head tilted to one side, “With only Scott for company?”

“We’re pack,” Jackson said, looking more genuine than Stiles had ever seen him, “It’s our job to look after you.”

“Stop,” Stiles pointed, “You’re going to make me cry again, Jackson, and I swear to god I _will_ get tears on that expensive looking shirt.”

Jackson didn’t even look sorry, just shrugging with a small smile. Stiles looked at Scott, who was grinning. It was so _adorable._

“I thought we could use some reinforcements,” He said simply, “Like Jackson said, we’re pack.”

Stiles was definitely going to cry.

*

Jackson and Isaac were sprawled on one end of the sofa, legs tangled up, Jackson’s arm around Isaac’s shoulders, and Isaac slumped so far into the sofa that he was practically in Jackson’s lap. Scott didn’t look bothered, too busy being demolished at Mario kart by Lydia to notice anything.

They were on the floor, bumping shoulders and shouting abuse at each other. Where Lydia’s insults were calculated and witty, Scott’s more included the words ‘butt’ ‘stupid’ and ‘poop’.

Well, at least he was cute.

Allison was petting Stiles’ hair, her legs over his thighs where they were sat on the other end of the sofa. He almost purred when she first started, but managed to contain it. Didn’t mean he wasn’t extremely loose and relaxed like a satisfied cat, though.

To him, this was pack. Hanging out together, like a little family, all close and affectionate without possessiveness and pack politics. This was what Stiles wanted. He was at home, here, and didn’t feel like he wanted to curl up in bed and sleep forever anymore.

He wouldn’t be surprised if there was some literal sense to that. Last year, Derek said that alphas were stronger with a pack. So that meant, by default, that everyone else was stronger too. Stiles certainly felt strong.

“Scott, you’re driving the wrong way!” He shouted at his oblivious best friend, kicking him in the back with a socked foot.

“What?”

“Can’t you see the little turtle in a cloud?” Jackson scoffed, then looked at Isaac, “You chose this guy for a mate?”

“Is there such thing as werewolf divorce?” Isaac pondered faux innocently, and Scott growled.

“Isaac, babe, if you’re going to leave me for Jackson, just tell me straight up.”

“Poor choice of words,” Allison murmured, and Stiles’ laugh was more of a yelp. He would’ve been embarrassed if he were with anyone else. Instead, he was proud that his reaction made Allison smile.

“Jackson, elope with me?” Isaac batted his eyelids like a dame in an old movie.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“We can have beautiful werewolf babies.”

“They’ll all drive Porsches.”

“Hey,” Lydia spoke up, watching herself stand on top of the podium on the screen, “If Jackson and Isaac are eloping, does that mean I get Scott?”

“I’m happy with that arrangement.” Scott winked dramatically.

“Wait, where does that leave me and Allison?” Stiles flailed, and Allison pulled his hair.

“We get married,” She rolled her eyes, “Obviously.”

Stiles grinned at her, consumed with contentment, “I love you guys.”

“Love you too,” Scott leant back on his legs, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackson waved a hand, snatching the popcorn bowl out of Isaac’s lap. Not that he really needed to, he probably could have reached it anyway, “We all love Stilinski. Who’s going to step up to the bat and beat Lydia?”

“The Mario kart master,” Lydia got up and curtsied dramatically.

“Oh,” Stiles tapped Allison’s legs, and she moved them, so he could get up and stare into Lydia’s terrifying eyes, “It is on.”

“Like donkey kong,” Isaac continued through a mouthful of popcorn.

Stiles couldn’t have been happier, but the ache was still in his stomach. He ignored it, sat down, and prepared for the drive of his life.

*

In the morning, Stiles woke up with his head against Jackson’s chest, his stomach being used as a pillow by Lydia, his right arm being tightly cuddled by Scott, and his left leg covered with Isaac’s right where he was snuggled up next to Scott. They were all lazed about watching a movie when the puppy pile started. Stiles had no regrets, except the numbness in every one of his limbs.

The knock on the door startled them all awake, and Scott began to growl.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked, dumbfounded, when Scott, Jackson, and Isaac stood up and crowded in backwards into the room. They were all glaring at the door.

“Would a murderer really knock at the door?” Stiles wondered aloud, and Allison’s lips thinned into a line while Lydia rubbed her eyes.

“No, but an asshole alpha would,” Lydia raised her eyebrows at the growling wolves, “I’m guessing he’s here, and that’s why you’re all freaking out?”

“You don’t have to answer it,” Scott turned to him, his eyes flicking back to brown where they were glowing red before, “I’ll tell him to leave.”

Derek. It was _Derek._ Stiles tried to calm his thumping heart, because there was no hiding how nervous he was once he answered the door.

Derek knocked again, harder this time, and Stiles flinched.

“Come on, guys,” Stiles said when the growling started up again. He walked through the three teenagers and turned to make eye contact with them. Jackson’s eyes were glowing blue, and Isaac’s frown was deeper than Stiles had ever seen. Scott looked apologetic, but like he would be ready to fight someone for Stiles’ honour. That was a surprisingly common facial expression on his best friend, “Put the fangs away.”

They obeyed, if hesitantly, but both Scott and Allison accompanied him to the door.

Derek looked- he looked normal. He looked like he always did.

“Um,” He seemed to notice the atmosphere as soon as the door opened. Stiles was trying not to show any emotion on his face, but he knew if he looked behind him that both Scott and Allison would have matching glares. If Derek didn’t already know what was going on before the door opened, then he must’ve been purposefully ignoring it. Stiles didn’t know what to do with that information.

He assessed the man in front of him. He looked awkward, at least. Maybe he felt bad. Stiles didn’t care. He was done trying to impress. Now, he was just another pack member. What Stiles said about only being vulnerable in his own home? Yeah, that was starting now.

Conceal don’t feel.

“Hey,” He pasted on a smile, trying not to sound as shaky as he felt, “What’s up?”

Derek seemed taken aback at the casual greeting, like he expected a slap, or a yelled insult. It was what Stiles wanted to do, but it wasn’t what anyone needed.

“I need you,” Stiles’ heart totally did not skip a beat at that, thank you, “Alpha Mason wants to visit the loft, and apologise for her wolf’s behaviour,” There was a snarl at the end of the sentence.

“Say he’s at the store,” Scott spoke up, his voice more disgusted than Derek’s had just been, “I think you’ve got enough out of him, don’t you?”

“Scott,” Derek scowled, “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

Allison dragged Stiles’ back by the arm, and led him to the living room where everyone was stood in anticipation. He couldn’t say anything, not when Scott was probably threatening to chop Derek’s dick off at this very moment.

He watched Isaac and Jackson’s faces, because they could hear everything. They were both frowning, then met eyes with concern.

“What?” Stiles waved his hand, “What is it? No werewolf hearing for three people in this room.”

“Alpha stuff,” Isaac crossed his arms, “We probably shouldn’t listen in.”

“Yeah,” Jackson nodded, his face giving nothing away.

Stiles huffed and leant against the arm of the sofa, Allison’s fingers back in his hair the only thing keeping him from going completely insane waiting.

“Hey,” Scott came back into the room, his expression solemn, “You really need to go, Stiles. This is serious.”

“Okay,” Stiles swallowed, “I’ll go put some jeans on.”

*

Stiles came back downstairs to silence. Derek was still stood on the front step, glaring at the floor, and the rest of the pack were stood in the living room like they were waiting for the coffin to roll in, so they could start the wake.

He walked over the door, watching them all with suspicion. What the hell was going on? Speaking of which, none of them had made their usual vague comments last night or this morning, which was even more suspicious than if they had.

In fact, they hadn’t spoken about Derek at all.

Stiles felt the familiar sensation of having something kept from him crawl up his spine. The last time he went down that line of enquiry he got his heart broken, though, so he was sure he could ignore it.

“Hey,” Scott stopped him near the door with a gentle hand on his forearm, “Call if you need me.”

“Any of us,” Jackson clarified, glancing to the door with the same look as if he’d just seen someone wearing crocs.

Stiles nodded, and walked out the door. If he stopped, he would just fall on the floor and cry, he was sure. He was about to get in the car with Derek, the same Derek who had told him to leave, and pretend to be mates again.

 _It’s for the pack,_ Stiles told himself, like a mantra.

Before he reached the car, he heard a hushed last warning between Derek and Scott.

“Tell him,” Scott said, his voice filled with meaning, “Or I will.”

Stiles shook off the anticipation in his gut, and climbed in the car.

At this point, the skin on his thumb was raw and red. It would probably bleed soon, which wouldn’t be the best when he was about to interact with a werewolf, so he stopped. Instead, his leg started to jiggle.

Derek slammed into the car with little to no grace. Anger was flowing off him in waves. It almost made Stiles choke. He cracked open a window.

“So, honey-bear,” Stiles said, his voice full of fake sweetness, “Ready for one last show?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls talk to me about pack bonding and platonic cuddling they are both v v important topics
> 
>  
> 
> three years of this fic and still going... pls let me know if you've been reading this since the beginning when i first posted bc that is dedication my dude


	8. Tell Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Call Scott,” Derek said, crumpling the note in his hand.
> 
> “Derek-” Are you okay? What’s going on? Why do you suddenly fucking hate me?
> 
> “Call Scott.” Derek’s red eyes left no room for argument, and Stiles scurried away to make the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn this girl is PROMPT

****

Talking. Usually Stiles was amazing at it, would excel in all things involving flapping his mouth. It wasn’t something that seemed to be happening right now, though. The tension in the car was thick. Derek clearly wanted to be anywhere but here, and Stiles shared the feeling. Being stuck in a car with the person you- _ugh-_ love, while they hate your guts, wasn’t something wanted to check off his bucket list. It wasn’t on there.

Derek was staring determinedly at the road ahead. His fists were clenched around the steering wheel like if he loosened them he’d start throwing punches. Stiles wasn’t scared. Despite everything, he knew Derek wouldn’t hurt him. He hoped today wouldn’t prove to show how Stiles was wrong about even more.

Once the excruciating drive was over, it only got worse.

“Crap,” Derek said, then climbed out of the car and started off at a run into the building. Stiles followed suit, a heavy feeling of panic settling in his gut. He had no idea what Derek sensed, but it clearly wasn’t good.

“Derek, what the-” Stiles’ sentence ended before it could properly begin when he saw the state of the loft. Bookshelves were thrown across the room, the sofa was covered in blood, and there was a note on the upturned table that immediately drew both of their attention.

 

_Came to see you. Had to leave in a hurry._

Stiles scoffed, despite it feeling out of place. Only an alpha werewolf woud leave a note while being kidnapped. That’s what this was. Verity had been kidnapped, and now Derek’s loft looked like a murder scene.

“Call Scott,” Derek said, crumpling the note in his hand.

“Derek-” _Are you okay? What’s going on? Why do you suddenly fucking hate me?_

“Call _Scott.”_ Derek’s red eyes left no room for argument, and Stiles scurried away to make the call. His hands were shaking as he hit speed dial. Maybe they couldn’t talk right now, but Stiles would find out what Scott had meant for Derek to tell him if it killed him.

*

Poor choice of words as it turns out.

“Back off, or your pet will die.” Stiles had vines tightly curled around his ankles and hands, one creeping up his spine, no doubt about to wrap around his neck and snap it. The witch was snarling, like _she_ was the one with wolf powers, not the people surrounding her.

Allison notched an arrow, her eyes fierce, trained on the woman in front of her. Scott was by her side, growling low and threatening, with Isaac next to him doing the same. Lydia was holding a vial of something in her hand, poised to throw. None of them could do anything. In the time it would take for the witch to die, the vine would have already killed the person they were trying to save. Him.

Derek was the worst, stood in front of everyone, his shaking hands the only sign that he was scared as well as angry.

They didn’t know where Verity was, or if she was even alive. The witch had just used her as leverage anyway. She wanted rid of this weird pack that seemed to be able to defeat anything that came their way. She wanted the boy with the spark gone. The boy with the spark didn’t _want_ to be gone.

As if in warning, a vine sharpened and dug into Stiles’ shoulder, pushing through until it was out the other side. He cried out, but didn’t hear Derek do the same. His eyes clouded over and he dropped to his knees.

This was it.

This was how Stiles was going to die.

In a fucking forest, strangled by a vine, never having told Derek how he really felt.

“Derek,” He said, it was one of the only things he had said since this all went to shit, “Derek.”

“Shut up.” The vines tightened around his wrists, and the vine pulled out of his shoulder. Stiles felt hot tears running down his face.

“What do you want?” Derek asked, his voice hiding any true feelings.

“I want your power,” The witch said, “All of you. A true alpha, a born wolf turned alpha, a banshee, a huntress, a kanima, and a spark.”

“Don’t forget Isaac,” Stiles found himself saying, his voice weak and shaking, “He’s pretty special too.”

He’s sure Isaac would have thanked him if the situation weren’t so dire, but it was, so he didn’t.

Stiles refused to believe this was how it was going to end.

Wait, _belief._

Screwing his eyes shut, Stiles tried to think back to that feeling, the night he manipulated the mountain ash. He willed it to work, willed the ash in his hand to stretch so it surrounded the entire building. He had to believe now.

He believed in his pack, in his friends, in all of the people around him. He believed in Scott, in Allison, Lydia, Jackson and Isaac. He believed in Derek. God, he believed in Derek so much it hurt.

He believed that Derek was a good alpha, a good man, who deserved happiness. He believed that one day he would let himself have it. Some day Derek would be happy, and Stiles believed that, even if it wasn’t with him. Stiles felt love join his belief. He loved Derek, with everything in him, even if it was unrequited. Derek was loved. Stiles believed he was, even if the man himself couldn’t.

Stiles felt the warmth inside him, all the bonds surging, the spark igniting, and willed the vines to slip away. He could picture them snaking around him, loosening, and disappearing into the ground.

Stiles thought, willed, _believed,_ and before he knew it, he was on the floor, free from his bounds, and passing the fuck out to the sounds of a mighty roar.

*

“Agh!” Stiles flailed and sat up, a cold towel from his forehead hitting the floor with a wet thwack. He screwed his eyes shut, surprised at the headache there. This felt oddly similar to the first time Stiles got drunk, with Scott, back in ninth grade. It wasn’t a good feeling.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Stiles finally opened his eyes and met Derek’s. He was the only other one there. They were in Derek’s loft, silent apart from their breathing. Derek blinked, and looked at the floor.

“I am,” Stiles said, cautious, “Where’s everyone? Are they okay?”

“Everyone’s fine,” Derek nodded, still staring at the floor, “Isaac is at Scott’s with Lydia and Jackson. They’re sleeping it off. Allison had to go home and tell her dad everything. Verity is back with her pack, it didn’t take long to track her after we took down the witch.”

Stiles pursed his lips, taking all the information in. In all honesty, he had no idea what to do with himself. The only thing he was certain of was that he’d have something different in his nightmares other than wrinkly old man hands.

“Why am I here?” Stiles asked, his heart thumping, “Why didn’t Scott take me to-”

“I wouldn’t let him.”

Stiles blanched, his mouth open.

“Oh.”

Derek sighed, like he knew the onslaught of questions Stiles was holding back.

“Ask me,” Derek said, his face unfairly unreadable. He was sat on the table in front of Stiles, and the sofa was suspiciously no longer covered in blood. Stiles wondered how long he’d been unconscious, if Derek had time to clean it. But that wasn’t the focus right now, “Ask me anything, and I’ll give you an honest answer.”

“Captain America or Iron Man?”

“Stiles,” Derek rolled his eyes, “Please take this seriously.”

“This _is_ serious.”

“Captain America.”

“Okay,” Stiles’ nerves were frayed. If he asked certain questions, he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer. But he also _needed_ to know. His curiosity and self-preservation were battling it out and he wasn’t sure which was winning, “What- what did Scott want you to tell me?”

“That’s- that’s not what I expect you to ask first.”

“You still have to answer.”

Derek nodded, and Stiles decided being sat awkwardly with his legs up on the sofa was too much, so he mirrored Derek’s stance.

“He wanted me to tell you what you asked me in the first place,” Derek started, swallowing, “The reason we know things about each other we shouldn’t, the reason I could feel your fear, the reason you can bring me back from the brink of no self-control.”

Stiles thought he knew the answer, but he stayed silent. He wanted Derek to say it.

“Jackson and Lydia, and Scott and Isaac,” Derek looked like what he was trying to say was physically paining him, “They’re mates because of a commitment. It’s like a marriage, for each of them, with a deeper emotional bond. It’s different for an alpha. One that’s _actually_ in charge of a pack,” He added when Stiles opened his mouth to say something, “It’s more intense, then. It’s also more intense if there’s magic involved,” He stared at Stiles, both of their hearts beating loud enough for Stiles to hear, “My mom told me, when I was a kid, that there was such a thing as true mates. Like, soulmates, but in real life. She said if you find them, your true mate, you’ll know. They’ll smell like home. Your hearts beat in sync, you know what they’re thinking, what they’re feeling, without having to communicate it. It’s a rare, lifetime bond.”

“That’s,” Stiles tried to wrap his head around it, “That’s what we are?”

“Yes,” Derek’s eyes dropped to the ground again.

“Why did you tell me to leave?” Stiles asked, but a realisation came at the same time, “You realised what we were, didn’t you? Is it- is it because you don’t want me? Were you disappointed?”

“No!” Derek stood, suddenly, and Stiles did too. The air in the room changed, and Stiles felt defiantly defensive, but it wasn’t his feeling, “You’re just- you’re so young, and you have so much love to give and I don’t deserve it. Any of it.”

“You already have it,” Stiles said quietly.

Derek looked at him, then, really looked at him. Stiles hoped he saw everything he wanted to.

“You’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for,” Stiles echoed Derek’s words from two nights before, “You deserve love, and I believe that enough for the both of us,” He took a step closer, so their noses were almost touching, “I’ve been watching you grow as a person for years, and as a verifiable adult, as a turned eighteen months ago, I think I get a say in whether I know if I have a soulmate or not. If you feel what I feel, then,” He brushed their lips together before pulling away with a smirk, “You can wait. Because you fucked me over, royally, and it’s going to require more than telling me what I should have known all along for this to go anywhere.”

Stiles stepped back fully, watching with satisfaction as Derek’s eyes go from glazed over to confused.

“I’m going to Scott’s,” Stiles saluted sarcastically, heading for the door, trying to look more confident about leaving than he felt, “See you later, soulmate.”

So, Stiles left Derek there, glazed and confused, and headed to Scott’s to roll over what he just did.

Would he regret not kissing Derek properly? Maybe.

Would he let Derek get away with being an asshole easily? Hell no.

He could work for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was going to end it here with stiles kissing the HELL outa derek
> 
> but then i was like
> 
> NO  
> derek was an ASSHAT he needs to make it up to stiles before anything happens

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd so if there are any mistakes, they are my own.
> 
> visit me on tumblr at girlsf0rgirls


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